Obvious
by Chirugal
Summary: Abby only takes orders from one man: Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. What she sometimes forgets is that she's not supposed to say so... Set in my Sir/Little Tease 'verse, Gibbs/Abby, one-shot, complete.


**Title**: Obvious  
**Rating**: T  
**Spoilers**: _The Inside Man_, season seven  
**Summary**: What have I told you about being too obvious, little tease?

* * *

I take the stairs down to the lab two at a time, Abby's frantic tone reverberating through my mind. It took Metro a while to get around to this step; I'm a little surprised they weren't here earlier in the game. I probably should have prepared Abby for this.

I hear her yelling at Sportelli from out in the hallway.

"I only take orders from one person: Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Unless he asks me to do it, _it doesn't get done_."

After allowing myself a slight smile at her words, I put on my game face. Out-and-out laughing at the official case lead isn't gonna look good under the circumstances, although as I cross the last two feet of hallway to the tune of Sportelli calling Abby 'honey', I almost succumb.

When I stride in, the two are facing off, equally fearsome scowls on their faces. For a second, my brain leaps to the conclusion that another guy is attempting to Dom my little tease, but I contextualise the situation quickly, knowing that if I broke Sportelli's nose, it would look even worse for the agency's integrity than laughing at him.

As soon as Abby catches sight of me, she breaks off the unspoken battle with relief. "Gibbs! Make this awful man go away."

The angry distress on her face sparks the usual protective instinct within me, and I step into the space between them, staring the detective out. "What do you want, Sportelli?"

"All the physical evidence from the Arnett investigation, including the car."

Including the car? Thought it'd take them another couple of days to get around to requesting that. Then again, from the looks of things Sportelli's had enough dealings with federal agencies to know all the steps of this dance. Wonder if he's ever had a run-in with Tobias? "We're denied access to your investigation, and you get all the evidence in ours?"

Sportelli takes altogether too much pleasure in serving me the official document I know was coming. "Since I have a court order? Yes."

I sense Abby's intense stare over my shoulder as I take my time unfolding the paper and reading the familiar words. Her glare is almost heated enough to ignite the material of Detective Pain-in-the-Ass' suit jacket. She's not gonna like this… I just hope I have her well trained enough to take the order without protesting.

I turn, lean in toward her ear so that what I say is almost meant for her alone, and growl, "Give it to 'em, Abbs."

It's a reminder of her words before I walked in, almost a challenge: _If you meant what you said, then do this for me._

She hesitates, the release of evidence to 'enemy' territory grating on her work ethic, but then gives way, snatching up the clipboard on the table. "You're gonna have to sign the chain of evidence, _honey_."

Before she can follow the verbal kick in the balls with a physical one, the rookie detective leans over and grabs the form. With a quick signature and a final caustic remark from Sportelli – why do all Metro detectives have to get in the last word? – they leave us to our annoyance.

Abby gives an exaggerated shudder. "I _hate_ patronising men!"

After a final glance at the door to make sure we're alone, I catch her gaze and hold it, turning my attention from the inconvenient visit to my little tease. Beckoning for her to follow, I make my way to the blind spot in her ballistics lab: the one place the security cameras can't reach. She follows, taking her usual spot in the corner, and calms down, lacing her fingers together behind her back and lowering her eyes to my shoes. "Sir?"

"What have I told you about being too obvious, little tease?" I ask quietly.

She bites her lip. "Don't, sir."

I reach out and place a finger under her chin, indicating that she can meet my eyes and letting my amusement at her antics show, then fade out again. She gives me a tiny answering smile before waiting on my judgment, knowing that I have more to say.

"And is telling Detective Sportelli that you only take orders from me, with one of the collars I permit you to wear around your neck, obvious?" I hook a finger through it and tug slightly.

She sighs apologetically. "Yes, sir. But it _was_ within context…?" I shake my head at her, and she trails off without elaborating on the excuse. "Permission to speak freely?"

Curious to hear what's going on in that mind of hers, I nod, and she leans back against the wall, her hands already in motion. "Sometimes it just comes out, sir. Kinda. Not like I turn around and say 'I'm sexually submissive to my boss and obey his orders in all agreed ways' or anything, just…" She looks up at me plaintively. "Little things. I'm so proud to be yours, and I hate that the world is so bigoted that we have to hide it from everyone!"

I can relate, but I didn't see this conversation coming. Pulling her up against me, I ask her, "You wanna tell the team about us? The relationship, not the specifics?"

Her eyes widen a little at the offer – it's something we've never discussed before. When we began this, it was under an unspoken agreement that we would keep it to ourselves. This is the first time I've had any indication that she's unhappy with that.

After a conflicted second, she shakes her head. "No, sir. If McGee knew… he'd connect the dots. All of them."

I take the comment as it was intended, without a speck of jealousy. It was what I'd inferred from watching the two of them interact back when they were together – and DiNozzo is way too good at manipulating secrets from McGee's lips. There's no way they'd stay in the dark for long, and from there Vance could easily listen in from his office's feed into the bullpen. And as Abby just said, the world in general isn't open-minded enough to just leave us to our own business. Certain phrases would start getting thrown around: _mind-games_ would be substituted with _emotional abuse, slave-training_ would become_ brainwashing, _and _consensual pain-play_ would be interpreted as_ domestic violence_.

From there… I'd be out of a job at the least; maybe even up on fabricated charges if any of the extremely pissed off exes in my life decided to make life difficult. We both understand that with crystal clarity, and for a second I allow my frustration to show before wiping it from my face again, pressing my lips to hers gently.

Abby melts against me, submitting to the kiss a little sorrowfully, and I turn the moment into a hug, wrapping my arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry, sir," she murmurs. "He was standing too close – my brain made a false connection and the words just came out, and-"

"I know, little tease. My mind went there, too." Her grip loosens a little as she processes that, and I wait a second before pulling back to look at her, wishing like hell I could just let the accidental slip go. "But you know this is serious."

She nods, looking as reluctant as I feel. God knows I shouldn't have to administer a punishment just so that her subconscious will halt the next time she slips up, but for people to catch on and think that what we have is abusive…

"From six a.m. tomorrow morning, I'm uncollaring you for twenty-four hours," I tell her, and her face falls as the words sting her. "Just a day, little tease. And you know this is a punishment for both of us."

Swallowing her tears back, Abby nods again. "And tonight, sir?"

I stroke a hand down her cheek affectionately. "Oh, you're mine tonight."

That makes her smile, albeit briefly. The expression fades out all too quickly, and I sigh, wishing I could just take her home now and distract her from her anxiety. "You think I've never sat at my desk and wished that you were kneeling by the side of it, a leash attached to your collar and wound around my wrist?"

Abby watches me through her dark eyelashes, anticipating more. I don't disappoint her. "Better yet, how about _under_ the desk, so you'd be ready to give me head whenever I told you to?"

She closes her eyes, a tiny thrill running through her. My next words snap them back open, however. "At one point I thought about stripping you naked and cuffing you to the railings outside MTAC, and making you look down on the squad room while I fucked you with my fingers…"

"Sir…" she whispers, a soft plea for me to touch her.

I kiss her instead, pressing her against the wall and unhurriedly taking possession of her mouth. With a small sigh of surrender, Abby submits to me, and for short, precious moments the world stabilises.

But I still have a case to run.

I ease back, and her smile is more genuine now. "I'll come by when I'm done for the night, little tease. Back to work for now."

She nods, following me back out into the outer lab. "Okay. Back to gathering up all of _our_ evidence to transfer over to _their_ crappy forensic labs." Her mouth twists in a dry smile as she glances over at me. "Sir."

Amused, I lean over to kiss her cheek, wishing I could do more, but wary of the security cameras. "Atta girl," I breathe in her ear, and leave her to do my bidding.


End file.
